


Adventure Awaits

by oddsnends



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 03:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsnends/pseuds/oddsnends





	1. So It Begins

Damn snow. Damn cold. Damn weather.

Marcy cursed, spearing the shovel into the mountain of snow that had built up at the end of the drive way. When she’d agreed to watch her aunt’s house, Marcy had been assured there wouldn’t be that much snow or cold weather. Lies. As beautiful as this place was, the fresh white powder glistening on the branches of the large trees lining the drive way, and shimmering against the afternoon sun – Marcy wasn’t impressed with the heap of hard packed snow that the plow had left on the way by.

“Squire.” She called out, shaking her head at the black and tan dog who was barking at a bird sitting in one of the trees. “You’re going to piss off the neighbours.” Marcy snorted with a laugh.

Since arriving four days ago, she had yet to see anybody aside from one or two cars drive by. Squire, the Manchester Terrier, wiggled his butt bounding toward Marcy. Laughing as he dropped and began to roll around in the snow, Marcy watched her companion for a few seconds before returning to her task of moving this damn mountain.

Aunt Leena had told Marcy that she wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, when it came to snow. A nice boy who lived up the street would be around to do the hard work, he was paid for the duration of Leena’s absence to remove snow. Marcy had yet to see this mythical teenager. It was Saturday, almost lunch time, perhaps still too early for a teenager? Marcy had given up on waiting.

Grunting and pushing her hat back on her head, Marcy sniffled in the slight cold, determined to get rid of this snow. Pushing the shovel in with a sharp, crisp, thunk against the snow Marcy failed to notice the looming danger, fortunately for her Squire had honed in on the person walking down the street and sprung into action on her behalf. Racing out into the street, the dog growled and barked at the approaching intruder.

Flinging himself around the man’s legs, tail wagging, and barking at the most obnoxious volume. The stranger stood calmly watching the dog from behind his sunglasses. In a low voice, he spoke to the dog, trying to reassure him that he meant no harm.

“Sorry! I am so sorry!” Marcy rushed forward, the shovel discarded in the snow. “Squire, down!” She shooed the dog away from the man.

“Don’t worry about it, truly.” The stranger pulled off his sunglasses, revealing warm brown eyes, and smiled. “I like dogs.”

“Good to know, but I don’t like my dog randomly attacking strangers.”

“I wouldn’t say he was attacking,” A smirk graced the stranger’s face, holding out his gloved hand. “I’m Halfdan Black, from down the street there.” Halfdan motioned toward the direction from which he’d came.

“Marcy Booth and this,” she motioned to the dog at her feet, “is Squire.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcy.” Halfdan shook her hand and bent slightly, “You too, Squire.” He reached down to pet the dog, chuckling when Squire gave a sharp halfhearted bark. “Lovely day.”

“If you’re a polar bear.” Marcy grumbled, masking her annoyance with a smile.

Resting his sunglasses on top of the black knit hat that covered his head, Halfdan smiled and rubbed a gloved hand over his blond beard. “You’re not from around here?”

“How could you tell?” Mary laughed nervously.

“Nobody around here bothers to complain anymore, we tried, but the snow didn’t listen.” He teased. Paying little attention to Squire who was happily sniffing his legs.

“Maybe someone should send it another memo?” Marcy quipped. Standing a few feet away from Halfdan, she shifted from foot to foot, awkwardly trying to think of something more clever to say the next time.

“I’ll see what everybody thinks at the next town meeting.” Halfdan knelt to scratch Squire behind the ear, little did he know this was solidifying his camaraderie with the dog.

Obviously he picked up on her awkward humor, Marcy was thankful that he didn’t stand there and look at her as if she were some lame loser. Ugh, she wanted to slap herself, what grown woman used the term lame loser?

“Well,” She found herself back in the reality of the situation, “it was nice to meet you. I should get back to my pile of snow.” Marcy gestured to the half shoveled drive way.

Surveying the job, Halfdan was impressed with the progress. Leena Booth’s drive way was long, wide, and a total menace to shovel. He, among others, tried to convince Leena to buy a damn snow blower or to let someone with a truck take care of this mess. If she were to do that, how would the kids on the street make any extra cash?

Leena paid those kids more than they were worth. Halfdan had helped his nephew shovel what could be considered a small road several times, he didn’t expect this when he’d wandered over to begin the job.

“Here, let me.” Halfdan picked up the shovel, digging in to the snow that Marcy had been working on.

“You don’t have to do that.” Marcy wiped her arm across her forehead, her hat skewed sideways leaving room for sprigs of red hair to fall out. Halfdan was already working away, picking up where Marcy had left off.

“No problem, I don’t mind.” Halfdan easily threw another shovel of snow into the bank. “It’ll save me from going to the gym.”

Marcy’s giggle was stifled as she tried to push the images of Halfdan all sweaty at the gym out of her mind. Under the thick winter coat, she could still tell that he was built with a lean but strong frame – one that had probably come from years of all this snow. Now she was being silly.

“One way to look at it.” Marcy felt a wave of relief, as the words flowed.

She’d been momentarily worried that whatever came out would be stupid or borderline creepy. Halfdan was the first person she’d met around here, aside from the nice lady at the gas station, Marcy didn’t want to scare him off. Nor did she want him going back home to tell his wife or girlfriend about the shameless lady down the street.

“My nephew was supposed to do it, anyway.” Halfdan explained with a puff of breath, effortlessly continuing to shovel the white mountain away. “I didn’t know,” He grunted with a push of the shovel. “Or I would have been over earlier. My brother is on vacation, I got a phone call to check in and that is when he told me.”

“Oh.” Marcy reached down to scratch Squire behind the ears. Needing to do something other than stand around and look useless. She took back the mean thoughts about the useless teenager. “So, you’re house sitting too?”

“Kind of.” Halfdan gave a short nod, concentrating on his task. “I moved in with my brother and his kids a few years ago.”

Halfdan would leave out the major details, until he decided whether or not she was worthy of knowing more. His older brother, Harald, was a rather private man when it came to the tragic details of his life. Until Halfdan got to know this stranger a little more, Marcy could make do with the short version of the story.

Leena had probably told her most of it anyway. The single widower, whose younger brother had moved in to help had been a hot topic among some gossip circles. Five years later and there was still a stream of desperate women showing up, offering their assistance in some ways. As if these women had never met a widower or a divorced man before. It was pathetic and a little comical.

“Harald, my brother, needed some help and I needed a place to live. So,” Halfdan grunted with a push of the shovel. “Here we are.”

“If you can’t help your own family, then who can?” Marcy posed the question her aunt always used, when she needed her niece to do something.

“You sound like Leena.” Halfdan pointed out. The sun was warm, despite the snow and cold, making him sweat a little under these layers. Pausing for a moment, he removed his coat tossing it aside into the snowbank.

“She’s a smart woman.” Marcy cast her gaze to the yard, trying not to watch the stranger strip.

“One of the smartest that I know.” Halfdan agreed. “Are you two close?”

“Close enough,” Marcy nodded. “What about you? Do you know my aunt, well?”

Halfdan blew out a breath before answering. “I do, but then again everybody in the neighbourhood knows Leena. She is involved in everything and she is always helping somebody.

Marcy knew that her aunt was well liked among the community, every time they spoke, Lenna was on her way out to some community event or another. The woman never stopped, Marcy admired that about her and hated that she didn’t get to visit more.

When asking Marcy to house sit, Leena had been clear that whatever Marcy needed, all she had to do was ask. Since Leena would be gone for almost a month, she had let a handful of people on the street know that her niece would be there and any help would be appreciated.

“Alright,” Halfdan sighed, leaning against the shovel. “All done.”

He seemed to have been in turbo mode, because there was no way Marcy could have finished this fast. Looking around, she found Squire happily chasing his tail in the snow, and the drive way completely clean.

“You didn’t have to do that, by the way.” Marcy followed Halfdan up the drive. Dragging the shovel behind him, Halfdan dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

“Nonsense, Henrik was supposed to do it and didn’t. I wish I’d known sooner, it would have saved you from being out with the polar bears.” He winked.

“Thank you, really.” Marcy rubbed her hands together, trying to get her fingers warm inside the soft mittens. “If there is anything I can do to pay you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Halfdan insisted, a smile creeping onto his face. His beard was starting to turn white from the snow that had managed to land on it during his shoveling. “Although, if you aren’t busy tomorrow evening, I could use a partner.“

Unsure of what to say to such a statement, Marcy’s mouth went dry and her hands instantly sweaty. She’d barely met this man! Halfdan was easy enough on the eyes, but who did he think she was?

"Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to, but our pub quiz team needs a fourth. Since you’re kind of new, I thought maybe…” Halfdan began to feel a little foolish. “You’re probably busy anyway.”

“Pub quiz?” Marcy raised her brow. Her nose was red and her body shivering against the little breeze. “I’m not very good with trivia.”

“Neither am I, but that’s okay. We go, drink beer, we laugh, and come home. Harald signed us up, it’s a long story.” Halfdan realized how pathetic he sounded trying to sell the stranger on the idea. “Anyway, if you want to join, I can pick you up on the way, we meet at 9pm.”


	2. Revelations and a Bottle of Wine

“Floki and Helga are certainly nice?” Marcy hadn’t meant for it to sound so rude. She had enjoyed the evening with the couple, truly. Especially Helga, the sweet nature pediatric nurse was the perfect balance to her eccentric husband.

“Oh they’re certainly something.” Halfdan laughed, walking into the living room with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. Sitting next to Marcy on the couch, he handed her a glass and poured the vibrant red liquid. “Especially Floki, if you ignore him then it is easier to deal with him.”

Less than 24 hours after Marcy had joined Halfdan for the Pub Quiz, they were nestled on the couch of his brother’s home, sitting in the dark next to a large stone fireplace. A portable construction light was enough to light the kitchen and part of the hall way, allowing safe travel between the rooms.

Marcy had been preparing to get dinner, when it seemed as though the Gods were against her, ignoring the few flickers of electricity she had managed to convince herself that it was a cause of the wind. When the house and the rest of the street went dark, she had realized her mistake in not taking proper preparations.

Again, Halfdan came trudging down the street. This time with a flashlight in his hand to rescue the house sitter. Leena’s house was equipped to handle the outage well enough, but who wanted to spend their evening in the dark alone and hungry?

It didn’t take Halfdan long to convince Marcy - Squire too of course - to join him at Harald’s. Halfdan made sure to set up the generator at Leena’s, for Marcy and Squire’s return, before they left. His selling point in getting the duo to join him was that he’d already cooked dinner, who declined an offer of homemade spaghetti?

The fire was warm and the food was welcomed, the wine an added bonus. Marcy sat with her feet tucked under her, a fuzzy pink blanket wrapped around her legs, and Squire snoring next to the fire. His belly already full of some spaghetti, really Halfdan didn’t have to feed Squire too. Although Marcy welcomed the little gesture and it had been fun to watch Halfdan try and teach Squire how to balance a meat ball on his nose.

“Have you known them long?” 

“As long as Harald has lived here, so eighteen, maybe nineteen years?” Halfdan tried to recount exactly how many years it had been since his older brother had moved to town. “Floki likes to torment and bless Helga, nobody knows how she does it.”

“Love makes people do crazy things, I suppose.” Marcy countered.

“Hmm,” Halfdan rested against the worn leather couch. “I suppose it does.”

The crackle of the fire set the background noise, while the pair finished dinner, talking and laughing despite their circumstances. Halfdan was a little less guarded this evening, a tiny note that Marcy welcomed gladly. He seemed more relaxed and offered a little more personal details than he had their last two meetings. As did she, Marcy Booth was a tad bit of a mystery, one that Halfdan couldn’t wait to solve providing she’d allow him.

Inside the house, alone, it was harder to hide things. Halfdan concluded that she was a decent person and if the questions came up, then he would answer the best to his ability. If Marcy declined any of his questions, then he would pass and find another topic.

“So, you said that you like to travel. Is that for fun or work?” Marcy asked between small talk.

Setting his nearly empty plate down, Halfdan wiped his napkin over his beard. Carefully he choose his words. “Both.” He paused to take a drink. “I used to buy and resell failing companies. It’s what our father did, I traveled with that for a while. Along with some personal trips.”

“Where’s the most amazing place that you’ve been?” Marcy prompted. She had done a bit of travel, but never anything grand or overly exciting.

“Morocco.” Halfdan smiled as if he’d had some sort of fondness for the place. “I was there for the first time in university, one of those spring break trips. It’s actually where I met my ex-wife.”

“Is that where she’s from?” Marcy had vaguely heard mention of Halfdan’s divorce the previous evening, when Floki had brought it up. Helga had dismissed the topic before too much detail came to play, with a swat to the back of his head, the tall giggling man turned the conversation.

“It is.” Halfdan nodded. “Kassia, but I didn’t meet her until later in life. I was there on business, she worked for one of the companies we bought out.”

“An exciting love story, you’re full of surprises.” Unsure of how Halfdan felt about his ex, Marcy waited to test the waters before any more questions came up. “Tell me, about Morocco.”

“It’s hot, historical, and I have never had food like I’ve had there.” Halfdan could almost smell the spices, if he closed his eyes long enough. “The people, the culture, it’s all like nothing else that I have ever experienced.”

“Then I should keep it on my To Do List?”

“Of course!” Halfdan eagerly nodded. “If you ever have the chance, don’t think twice. Go. I would love to go back, someday. Essaouira and Fes are where I spent most of my time.”

Pushing a small bit of spaghetti around her plate, Marcy sat quietly as Halfdan told a few details of his visits. She was particularly fond of the camel story, also his first date with his ex.

“If I’m not being too bold, I’d say that it was love on the first date?” Marcy quickly shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, to avoid another inappropriate question.

“At first sight.” Halfdan’s eyes were twinkling in the firelight. “Kass, is one of the most beautiful women that I have ever met.” He sighed with a laugh. “Smart and feisty, too.”

“She sounds great.”

“Oh she is.” Halfdan agreed, taking another drink and staring into his glass. “But, we weren’t meant to be. You know? We were married for almost three years, when I decided that I didn’t love her anymore. Not in the way I should be loving my wife. Come to find out, she was as out of love as I.”

A mutual and easy divorce, if only Marcy had been allowed the same luxury.

“So it ended well?”

“We’re still friends. I talked to her a few days ago, but that is it.” Halfdan gave his final answer on the subject. “What about you? Any tragic tales of love?”

“An ex husband.” Marcy felt her mouth go dry with the admission. Haldfan nodded. It was only fair she shared her story. “We met in university, nothing as exciting as meeting in Morocco.” She teased.

“I’m sure it was all thrilling just the same.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we were married for eight years and have been divorced for four. We divorced over infidelity.”

A nice way of saying cheating bastard, Halfdan assumed. What kind of man would want to stray from somebody this lovely?

“Ouch.” Halfdan made a wincing face. “Hopefully he learned.”

“He wasn’t the one cheating.” Marcy picking up her wine, gulping down the rest. She felt her cheeks burn with the embarrassment of the confession.

Halfdan mulled over her words, never one to judge another person’s reasons, he drew in a deep breath. “Well, sometimes we do things that we’re not proud of. But the past isn’t who we are now.”

“No, it certainly is not.” Marcy agreed with a heavy nod. Pulling the blanket tighter around her legs, she rested her plate on her lap, gazing off into the flames that danced in the fireplace. “I wish I had a better reason, or a reason at all.”

“Sometimes,” Halfdan motioned for her glass, casually pouring some more wine, “we don’t have them. Sometimes, life has different plans that we don’t get to control.”

“Wow.” Marcy accepted the fresh glass of wine, a stunned feeling coming over her. Most people heard about her exploits and automatically deemed her a filthy whore. “You know, most people aren’t that nice when they hear this.”

Halfdan sat back, resting his feet against the coffee table, picking up his plate. “People judge too quickly. I don’t have any right to judge anybody. I’ve made mistakes, too.”

A sense of relief washed over the nervous redhead, not going unnoticed by Halfdan, but he didn’t say anything. It was brave and rather bold of Marcy to admit that to him, he admired that instantly. Talking about past love and failed marriages was never a happy subject, for anybody, but to say she was the one who had caused it couldn’t have been easy.

Sitting for a few beats in silence, listening to the wind howl around the big house, Marcy kept her gaze on anything but Halfdan. His divorce had seemed like a fairy tale in comparison to hers. Settling in with the knowledge that he wasn’t a judgmental person was like a lifted weight for Marcy.

In the few times she had been fortunate enough to spend time in his company, she had come to notice that Halfdan was considerate of everyone around him. Speaking without thought didn’t seem to happen with him. He was observing and thoughtful, obviously a kind heart, and those were qualities that could make any person enjoyable company.

“So, tell me more about you.” Halfdan felt himself suddenly wanting to know everything. He wanted every detail of what made Marcy Booth who she was.

“What is there to tell? I’m a business consultant, I live with my dog, and I hate the snow.” Marcy’s reply caused Halfdan to chuckle.

“I knew about the dog and the snow, but tell me something else. Something…something that makes you Marcy.” He prompted.

“Uh, well,” Marcy searched her mind for something worthy of sharing. “When I was in university, I performed in six different musicals.”

“Really?” Halfdan jerked his head to look at her. She had come across as shy, who would have thought the quiet redhead was some sort of musical phenom? He liked it, a lot. “In university all I did was drink.”

“Didn’t we all?” Marcy raised her glass and took a drink, for emphasis.

“It’s amazing I ever made it out.” Halfdan rolled his eyes at the memories. “You know, I got my first job, because my dad owned the business and Harald convinced him to hire me. I have a degree in Art.”

“Tell me,” Marcy scooted closer, “How did two guys who bought and sold companies end up with a landscaping business?”

Halfdan set his plate down on the coffee table, wiping his face. The last thing he wanted was to have pasta sauce splattered all over his face, how unflattering would it be to look like a toddler learning to eat.

“Well, to be honest,” He began, “It was Ellisif who bought this business. She wanted something to do, while Harald was away working. Harald had bought it out, then she bought it from the company, turned it around and now here we are.”

“Ellisif is…”

“My sister in law, Harald’s wife. She passed away five years ago, which is why I moved in.” He recalled the minor details. “After Elli passed, Harald needed some help. He was a mess and the kids, Ana was ten and Henrik was eight. I dropped everything and moved in.”

Marcy’s eyes said it all without so much as a word. Halfdan had saw that look time and time again, whenever Ellisif and her passing came up. People would look at him or Harald with this sort of apologetic gaze. This was usually the part where they would cut in with how sorry they were, or how terrible this all was for the family. Marcy remained quiet, giving Halfdan the chance to speak first, avoiding the awkward apology.

“After I was here for a few weeks, I realized that I wasn’t in love with Kassia. So, we filed for our divorce and as they say…” Halfdan clapped his hands together. “History.”

“Hmm.” Marcy hummed in a brief manner. “So, you and your brother were partners, in the other job, too?”

Silently Halfdan thanked her for not going into an emotional state on him. He hated how weird it was, when people did that with no connection to the deceased.

“Harald was one of the best,” Halfdan reminisced. “He is such a good business man, a few of the others in the office had a name for him.”

“And that was?” Marcy learned forward to place her plate on the table.

“The King of All Norway.” Halfdan snorted at the silly title. “Elli even had a plaque made for his desk.”

“Oh my god, seriously? It sounds like a nickname from a bad sitcom.” Marcy giggled.

Halfdan nodded, laughing along with her. “Wait until you meet him, it becomes sillier.”

Marcy smiled and added. “I’ll keep that in mind, for when I get to meet him. Now, do I call him King Harald or just Harald?”

“You’re funny.” Halfdan mused. “I think Harald is just fine, although there are times when I use more colourful names. What kind of brother would I be, if we didn’t piss off one another now and then?”

“I’m an only child, I wouldn’t know.” Marcy shrugged. “Was it difficult, moving in with your brother, I mean…being that you had separate lives for that long?”

While they had worked closely together, sharing hotel rooms almost weekly, there was a good point in Marcy’s question. Halfdan’s brow furrowed in thought. He’d been so eager to help that he had never considered such an issue. He and Harald hadn’t lived in the same house since Harald had left for university, which had been at least twenty five years before Halfdan had moved in here.

“It’s not all bad, living with my older brother.” Halfdan shrugged at the idea. “His house is nice,” He gestured to the room. “And he has a pool.” They both laughed at the additive. “Plus, I’m never far from the kids and my god-daughter lives only twenty minutes away.”

“A god-daughter, too?”

“Yes, Siggy.” Halfdan stood, walking over to a table in the corner. Coming back with a framed photo, he handed it to Marcy. “Siggy Lothbrok, she’s eight years old and the daughter of my long time friend, Bjorn.”

“She’s adorable.” Marcy smiled at the photo of Halfdan and the little girl, sitting by a dock in a canoe.

“She is great.” Halfdan beamed proudly. “Bjorn grew up in the house next door to Leena. His mother still lives there.”

“I think I’ve seen her around, mostly when I walk Squire by.” At the sound of his name, Squire lifted his head and groaned before flopping back down beside the warmth. “And speaking of walking by,” Marcy squinted to look at her watch.

Halfdan frowned pulling out his phone to look at the screen, it was getting late. The wind was still howling around the house and they were still in the dark. Yet, he understood – although a little disappointed to have this end – Marcy’s want to be back in her aunt’s home.

“I should probably get back to Lenna’s.” Marcy stretched her arms over her head. “I’ve taken enough of your time.”

“You don’t have to go.” Halfdan shot up. “I mean, if you don’t want to. You could stay here, tonight.”


	3. Morning After Mayhem

Marcy sat at the table, her head in her hands, absolutely mortified over what had taken place. Halfdan leaned against the entrance into the living room, trying to do his best to reassure the distraught woman that the events of the morning weren’t really that bad. Unable to convince her, just yet, he couldn’t help but snicker as he thought about it.

When Harald had told Halfdan his side; Halfdan had laughed hysterically, what else could he do? This was a far better morning than he’d bargained for. Marcy on the other hand needed to be handled with more delicate words than Harald.

“Do you find this funny?” Marcy shot him a death glare. If looks could kill, Halfdan wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I know that you want me to say it isn’t,“ Halfdan tried to hide his laughter, a hand running over his beard, "but it is a little funny.”

“Your brother saw my ass!” Marcy exclaimed mortified at the recount of events.

“To be fair, Harald hasn’t seen a naked ass in years. You were probably doing him a service.” He left his post, in the corner, to begin fiddling with the coffee maker.

“You’re a terrible human!” Marcy huffed.

“You have to admit,” Halfdan smirked, “it is a little funny?”

If this was Halfdan’s idea of funny then he was cracked. Marcy could never show her face again, she’d have to sit inside of Leena’s house until it was time to return home. At the very least, she’d have to avoid Harald which could be easily done. Of course she’d also have to avoid Halfdan to make that happen, not so easily done.

Marcy was having fun with the man from up the street.

“If I’d known they were coming home, this morning, I would have told you.” Halfdan added. “Harald only said their plane came in at seven. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Halfdan had convinced Marcy to stay another night, her third since the night of the power outage, under the assumption that his brother wouldn’t be home until tonight. Giving them loads of time to get themselves together and presentable.

It was early when Squire had began to scratch on the bedroom door, wanting to let Marcy get some sleep, Halfdan had taken it upon himself to take Squire out for a run.

He’d returned to find Harald sitting in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand, and a flabbergasted look on his face. Informing his little brother that Mary…Molly?…whatever her name was had left. Halfdan would know where to find her.

It was then that Harald explained how he’d came in, hearing someone in the kitchen and assuming it was Halfdan, he’d walked in to find a lady in Halfdan’s shirt. Her barely there panties giving him a full view of her ass, while she was bent over the dishwasher.

“She seems…helpful.” Harald shrugged, his cheeks turning red, when he relived the moment to a laughing Halfdan.

Marcy didn’t wait, rushing to get her clothes on and fleeing to Leena’s. She’d been at the house for no more than half an hour when Halfdan and Squire appeared. Dressed in a pair of loose sweat pants and an over sized sweat shirt, Halfdan was fully aware of what she was trying to do. Her red hair hung loose at her back, neater than Halfdan remembered it to be last night, when his hands were lost in it.

“He’s going to think I’m some sort of cheap whore.” Marcy whined, covering her face with her hands. “Some hussy, who goes around getting it where she can, or some shit.”

“Look, I know this is embarrassing, but nobody thinks you’re a whore or a hussy.” Halfdan tried to calm her, while peeking into random containers looking for the coffee filters.

“Oh yeah? How would you like it, coming home from vacation with your kids, to find a half naked woman hanging out in your kitchen?”

“If I were a single man, who hasn’t seen a half naked woman in years? I’d kick the kids outside to go play for a few hours.” Halfdan winked.

“Not helping.” Marcy pouted. “We were acting like a couple of horny teenagers, while the parents were away. You have no shame, like none? Zip? Zilch? Nada? Your brother isn’t stupid, he has two kids.”

“We’re adults. Why would I be ashamed? It’s not like we did anything, anywhere, which was inappropriate. I bought the bed we slept in, and I wash my own sheets.” He chuckled, prepping the coffee maker and taking a seat at the table.

Marcy groaned and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. Halfdan wasn’t wrong. They were consenting adults, who happened to enjoy one another as company. Casually and otherwise. There was no shame in this, only embarrassment and self loathing for being such a ditz. It would have taken her two seconds to pull on pants.

Since she couldn’t go back in time, the only logical thing now was to hide. The more Marcy thought of hiding away, becoming a hermit, the more she liked it.

“Harald already has a theory, when he’s away, I have a steady stream of booty calls.” Halfdan shrugged. “For the record, I don’t.”

There had only been two, three including Marcy.

“Great, then he’s going to think we’re both hoes.” Marcy grumbled, not wanting to put Halfdan in a bad position. After all, he was the one living with Harald.

“If I want to be a dirty ass hoe, then so be it!” Halfdan’s smirk was wide. “It really isn’t his business and I doubt my brother will bring it up, again.”

“Right, so the next time you’re all sitting around having a poker night - or whatever it is you do with the guys, nobody will talk about this?” Marcy sat up straight, looking at Halfdan with a skeptical expression.

Halfdan sighed, leaning forward on the chair. “Harald is as mortified as you, he won’t be telling anybody about this. Ever!” Halfdan stressed the last bit. “You’re probably the only ass he’s ever seen, in person, aside from Ellisif. Trust me, my brother isn’t one to brag about such things.”

“And you?” Marcy eyed him suspiciously.

“One day, many years from now, I will be old and senile. While reliving the good ole’ days, I will tell some random nurse about the time my brother saw your ass. Half way through, I’ll probably forget what I was saying, piss myself, and then ask for my pudding.” Halfdan tried his best to get a laugh from Marcy.

“Charming.” Marcy giggled, trying to hide it. She wanted to be mad at him for not directly taking her side, but it was rather difficult.

“So I have been told.” Halfdan rose to get the freshly brewed coffee. Between his run with Squire then Harald and Marcy’s run in, he wasn’t as caffeinated as he’d like to be by 10AM.

Pouring two mugs, Halfdan added a small bit of sugar to one and left the other black. Sitting the black coffee down in front of Marcy, he took the other for himself. Taking a long sip, he moaned happily. Damn him, a chill of excitement ran through Marcy, hitting every nerve from head to toe.

“I hate you, Halfdan Black.” Marcy mumbled around a sip of coffee.

“I will let you believe that, for now.” Halfdan replied placing his mug on the table and leaning back in his chair.

Quiet enveloped the house, except for the noise of Squire scratching in the hallway. The dog whined in pleasure before a quick squeak rang out, as he pounced on his ball. Tail wagging, he emerged with the yellow ball in his mouth, dropping it at Halfdan’s feet and sitting.

“Really? Now? You are barely back from a run.” Halfdan glanced down at the black and tan dog. Squire’s entire body wiggled with his tail, nudging the ball. Picking up the ball, Halfdan gently tossed it back down the hall sending Squire in a furious chase.

“I think I’m going to miss him, when he goes home.”

Marcy was happy for the subject change, although she wanted to run away and go back home, to avoid Harald and her shame, she wasn’t entirely ready to leave Halfdan’s company.

“You need to get yourself a dog.” Marcy noted before taking a sip of coffee.

“Henrik wants a dog,” Halfdan picked up his coffee. Taking a long drink, he licked his lips. “Harald keeps saying no.”

“I suppose it’s fair, listening to his rules.” Marcy shrugged, taking the ball that Squire left in her lap and gently tossing it.

“They’re his kids.” Halfdan concluded.

“Do you ever think about having your own?” The question was a little out there.

Halfdan smirked, taking another drink of coffee. Placing the mug on the table, his dark eyes crinkled in the smile. “Are you offering?”

Marcy snorted.

“Honestly? No. I love kids, I do. My life, even when I was married, isn’t designed for children. Kassia and I never really discussed it.” Halfdan was solemn in his reply. “What about you?”

“My ex husband talked about it, quite frequently. It sort of freaked me out. Being married was scary enough. I’d probably be a terrible mother, anyway.”

“I doubt you’d be terrible, but you’re right, I can’t see you being a mom.” Halfdan gave her his honest opinion. “A fun aunt, maybe.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“Being the fun aunt can be beneficial, trust me. Us aunts and uncles have way more fun, we can give the kids back and leave whenever we want.”

“Is that why you haven’t moved out?” Marcy bit her bottom lip, groaning in regret. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Halfdan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I get what you meant.” Tossing the ball down the hall, again, sending Squire running off; Halfdan tapped his fingers on the table top.

“I’m sorry.” Marcy whispered.

“Don’t be.” Halfdan dismissed the words. Clearing his throat, to show no hard feelings he went in to smooth things over. “Look, I know you’re in an awkward place right now, but tonight I’m having dinner with my brother and some friends. I’d like you to come.”

“Is there any sense in trying to get out of it?” Marcy asked with a slight smirk.

“No, it’s at Helga and Floki’s. Helga will be deeply insulted if you don’t come. She really likes you. I don’t know how you feel about Helga, but if…”

“I’ll come.” Marcy cut in. She’d spare the details on how Helga had invited her a couple of days ago, and how she’d already agreed.

A smile turned the corner of Halfdan’s lips, hidden behind his coffee mug. Delaying his sip of the cooling liquid, he moved the mug to speak. “Is it okay if I pick you up around six then?”

“I suppose, six is good.” Marcy confirmed. “Gives me enough time to wash off my shame and try to think of something to say, when I see your brother.”

A laugh rumbled in Halfdan’s chest, he was enjoying this far too much.

“I can’t help you with what to say, but I could help with scrubbing away the shame.” There was a mischevious twinkle in his brown eyes.

Marcy had witness that gleam before, right before they…Biting her bottom lip, she quickly crossed her legs under the table, squeezing her thighs together.

“I think I can wash that away, just fine, by myself.”

Shrugging, Halfdan finished his coffee, standing to put the cup on the counter. “Okay, if you insist, but I must warn you that I am a fantastic scrubber.”

“Go home.” Marcy playfully swatted in his direction.

Faking disappointment, Halfdan hung his head, pouting as he passed Marcy. “Okay, if you insist.”

“Oh, I do.” She stood to rinse her coffee mug, leaving it next to Halfdan’s on the counter.

“Good idea, I mean it’s probably best to only desecrate one house while you’re here.” Halfdan laughed reaching down for his shoes.

“What happened to that sweet, nice guy that I met last week?” Marcy teased with sharp edge to her tone.

Halfdan stood, his shoes laced, his shoulders dropping and his hands grabbing for Marcy. “I’m still sweet and nice.” He cocked his head to the side. “Where’s that awkward damsel in distress? Huh?”

“Oh, I’m still plenty awkward.” Marcy’s eyes were wide with statement. “But, I tend to be a little less around those who’ve seen me naked.”

Holding off on any jokes about this morning’s previous events, Halfdan choose his words wisely. A smart man always did so. He liked Marcy, the last thing he wanted was to scare her off or cause any more embarrassment.

“Ah yes, well, me too. I mean, how can I make you feel sorry for me once you’ve saw all of this?” He laughed tugging at the hoodie he wore.

“I meant it, Halfdan.” Marcy tugged on the strings of his sweater. “Go home.” she winked. “Before you get into trouble. Isn’t there something around the house you need to do?”

Huffing, Halfdan loosened his grip on her waist. “I see, get rid of me. Only use me, when you need me. Okay. I’m alright with that. I’ll be back to pick you up. I look forward to this evening.”

Pushing him away, gently, Marcy couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “I’m sure you are.”

“Really,” Halfdan’s tone turned serious, his eyes locked on her. “I am looking forward to this. It’ll be nice for you to meet the faces to the names.”


	4. Brother Knows Better

“I’ll call you later this week?” Marcy asked, pushing open the truck door.

Halfdan’s only reply was a grunt, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Saying good night, Marcy shut the door behind her, waving to Halfdan as she entered Leena’s house - the last time she’d seen him in almost a week.

Whatever she’d done, it must have been something for Halfdan to ghost her like this. She’d called two days after dinner at Helga and Floki’s, sent a text the day after that, but neither got a reply.

Whatever.

She didn’t need him anyway. Only a week and a half left, until her aunt returned home, and she was able to leave. They’d had their fun while it lasted.

Marcy sighed, shifting her weight from one foot to another, as she stood in line at the small coffee shop. Giving up on wondering what had gone wrong, with Halfdan, she decided to get out and see the town a little.

Today’s adventure included the grocery store and coffee, a big adventure for sure. On the bright side, since she wasn’t so focused on Halfdan, she could do more to explore.

Oh who was she kidding? Hanging out with him was way more fun than grocery shopping, even if they had come to rarely leave his bed. At very least, Halfdan knew people in town, and the company in general had been nice.

Pulling off her gloves and searching for her wallet, she stepped up to the counter, ordering the biggest take away coffee - black of course - that they sold. The young man behind the cash smiled and promptly filled her request.

Dropping a tip in the jar on the counter, Marcy turned catching sight of Harald. He was in the corner, by the window, glasses perched on top of his head, a cup on the table in front of him and a pile of papers accompanying it. Maybe he didn’t see her?

“Marcy.” Harald waved, his voice booming against the light noise of the coffee shop. Marcy stopped, like a redheaded deer in the head lights. “Marcy, hello.” He stood to greet her.

“Hello, Harald.” Marcy approached, taking a time saving sip of her coffee. So much for not seeing her.

“Nice to see you,” Harald pulled out the extra chair, offering her to sit. “You haven’t been around much, this week.”

“Halfdan’s fault.” Marcy replied standing next to the intended chair.

Harald’s brow creased, adding a darkness to his eyes. “Sit. Please. I think we need to talk.”

“Oh and why is that?” Marcy took the bait, accepting the empty seat. Placing her coffee and gloves on the table, she waited for Harald to address their reason for conversation.

“I know that we don’t know one another very well,” Harald began, picking his glasses from his hair and placing them on his nose, “but Halfdan is obviously pretty taken with you.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.” Marcy mumbled.

Halfdan was a fun time, so what? It had been ages since Marcy had even thought of trying to have a relationship. A relationship with Halfdan had crossed her mind, but mostly it had been a way to relieve stress and fill her needs.

“My brother isn’t perfect, as I am sure you’re aware.” Harald continued. “Nobody is, really, but he’s a good guy.”

“I don’t mean this to be blunt, but what is the point of this?” Marcy hadn’t meant to come off as rude. Despite their awkward first meet, Harald was pleasant to be around. He was polite and rather friendly. 

“During dinner, there were some things said and Halfdan may have reacted badly.” Harald might as well get to the point.

“You don’t say.”

He smirked at the sarcasm. No wonder Halfdan enjoyed her.

Dinner had been great, whatever went sour had to have happened when Marcy was out of the room.

They’d arrived to find Floki and Helga’s house filled with people that all seemed extremely happy to see Halfdan. The kids especially, Marcy couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the blonde bolt of lightening that had attached to Halfdan the second he walked in.

Siggy had ran screeching at her god-father, as fast as her eight years old legs could go. The little girl was glued to him, almost every second of the evening.

“I know this isn’t an excuse to ignore you or to be a dick, but hear me out.”

Marcy nodded, encouraging Harald to continue.

“I’ll spare the details, as I am sure you’re aware of Kassia?” Harald asked, taking a sip of his drink. Marcy noted the way his jaw flexed, a similar tic to Halfdan’s when he was being serious or a stressed.

“I am, yes. His ex wife, what about her?”

“Because Bjorn doesn’t think before he speaks, gods love him.” Harald scoffed. “He decided that it was a good time to tell Halfdan about her engagement.”

“Oh, uh, good for her?”

So his ex wife being engaged had caused Halfdan to act like a spoiled toddler?

“What does this have to do with me? Or Halfdan avoiding me? I’m not the one who…”

“I know, I don’t blame you for being upset with him.” Harald smoothed it over the best he could. 

Halfdan’s foul mood wasn’t setting well with his older brother, having him skulking around the house like a mopey teenager was annoying. Harald could imagine how aggravating it was for Marcy.

If Halfdan wanted to push away a pretty woman who showed interest, he was crazy.

“I’m not overly happy with him, myself. I wanted you to know that his bad mood isn’t personal.”

Picking up her coffee, Marcy took a drink, setting the cup back down and licking her lips. She had suspected that Halfdan was still fond of his ex, hell he’d outright admitted that he still loved her.

Maybe ending this…fun…with Halfdan while she was ahead would be beneficial? Marcy didn’t want to spend her time competing for affection, when he was hung up on another woman.

“I get it, divorce is brutal. Knowing that your ex is remarrying is also a kick in the gut.” She shrugged. Her own ex had remarried last year, Marcy would be a liar if she said it didn’t bother her.

She had spent three days in bed drowning her sorrow in cheap cans of sparkling wine.

Her ex remarrying may have been worse than her actual divorce.

“Divorce sucks, I couldn’t imagine a worse way to end…” Marcy felt the heat creep into her cheeks. Wanting to melt into a puddle and sink under the table, she began to do what everybody else always did. “I am so…”

“Divorce is like death, in a way.” Harald mulled over his words. “At some point, we all say good bye to someone we were once in love with. The only real difference is that in divorce, you can choose when you lose that person.”

“Harald, I am…such an idiot. Oh my god, please, know that I would never mean to…”

“It’s fine. I know that you didn’t mean anything by it.” He offered a smile, his eyes creasing. Marcy wanted to hit the rewind button, no matter how he tried to play this off.

“You’re much nicer than I would be.” An awkward smile found Marcy’s face.

“Silently, I am judging you.” Harald frowned, his eyes turning into a hard stare. Squirming uncomfortably under his gaze, Marcy wanted to run. “I’m kidding.” His stare eased and a smile cracked once more.

“I am such an idiot.” Marcy covered her face. “You’re probably rooting for Halfdan to hate me, now.”

Reaching for his cup, Harald took a drink, humming into the lid. “No, actually. I’m not. Believe it or not, I think you may be exactly what he needs.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Don’t.” Harald was firm in his reply. “I know Halfdan well enough to know when something is good for him. He needs something good to happen, if only for a few weeks. This, you, will encourage him to get back out and do the things he loves.”

“Ah, so what you’re really saying is that you want your basement back?”

“Partly, yes.” Harald smirked. “Halfdan isn’t one to sit around and worry, it’s all he does these days. He’s a wanderer, he needs adventures or he grows bored. You’re going to help him with that.”

Harald wasn’t blind, he could see how having the stunning redhead around had managed to change Halfdan’s usual attitude. Calm and unshakable most days, Halfdan was acting like Ana when she had a crush at school.

A grown man walking around twitterpated by a woman was almost heartwarming, a tad nauseating, and worrisome. Halfdan could tell Harald what he wanted about this being casual, any effort to make himself believe there was nothing more than a good time going on. Harald would beg to differ, until Halfdan saw what was going on and was ready to admit it, his big brother was staying out of it.

Staying out of it, as much as he could. This was more of a gentle nudge in the right direction. A guiding hand, a mild interference.

“Come over, this evening around seven.” Harald offered, standing and picking up his coat. “I’m taking Henrik to hockey practice and Ana is staying at a friend’s. It will give you time to…sort this out.”

Left to stew in her conversation with Harald; Marcy tapped her nails on the table top, trying to decide her next move. Did she really want to go running after a random man? Biting her bottom lip, she sat at the table a few minutes longer, weighing her options. If any of what Harald said was true, then she would have to do some serious thinking before 7PM.


	5. The Choice is Yours

Marcy would appear sooner or later, Halfdan was sure of it. What he didn’t expect was her to materialize in the basement, as he stepped out from a shower. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Harald had left minutes ago - explaining her presence inside the house. Blue towel snug on his hips, barefoot and damp hair, Halfdan padded past and into his bedroom.

“Like what you see?” He asked assuming Marcy would follow or they would be having their conversation, shouted through the walls.

“I um, I came over because…” Marcy shuffled around awkwardly, her eyes cast to the floor. “Well, I’m…” She groaned in frustration. “Can you please put on some damn clothes?”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Halfdan smirked, making sure to stretch real well, reaching for the sweat pants on the shelf in the closet. “Harald let you in?”

“Yes.” Marcy’s answer was short and obvious.

Halfdan made a noise of acceptance, ignoring or rather enjoying the deep red creeping into Marcy’s cheeks, as he dropped his towel. Inhaling sharply, her gaze glued to the floor, trying her best to keep herself on track with her visit.

Damn him. Why did he have to do this?

Marcy admired every inch. Every taught, toned, delicious muscle and how it moved - looking was nice, but nothing compared to the way they felt under her touch. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she closed her eyes silently willing Halfdan to put on clothes.

Taking his time pulling on the sweat pants, Halfdan lingered naked in front of the mirror on the back of the closet door. His hands ran through his damp hair, moving it around in the small faux-hawk that he liked.

“Harald said that he ran into you,” Halfdan spoke through the mirror, to the reflection behind him. “It’s good that you’ve been getting out and enjoying the town.”

“I suppose.” Marcy’s eyes never lifted from the floor. Halfdan smirked, before grabbing his pants and putting them on. “I’m sorry to barge in like this, Harald said that you were down here.”

“I don’t mind, it isn’t the first time you’ve saw my bare ass.” Halfdan chuckled. Although this was the first time she was acting strange about it. “Is there something wrong?”

“No.” Mary answered too quickly. Huffing, she looked up catching those deep brown eyes. “Yes.” She changed her answer.

“And what is that?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong. You shut down and shut me out, Halfdan. I’m sorry if I said or done something, to make you think I wasn’t worthy enough of an explanation.” She felt her annoyance begin to rise. “And why am I apologizing to you? You’re the one who fucked up, not me.”

“I wouldn’t say that I fucked up,” Halfdan wrinkled his nose against a shirt on the floor.

“Then what would you say?”

“I was an asshole?” He pulled a zip up hoodie from the closet. Sliding it on, he neglected to the do the zipper. Marcy rolled her eyes at his answer. “I could have handled this better? In no way did you deserve me shutting you out.”

How was she supposed to give him the angry lecture that she’d prepared when he gave her that?

Brushing by, his hands steadying on her shoulder, Halfdan marched straight out of the bedroom. It was up to Marcy to follow, he wasn’t waiting around. On his heels, Marcy sulked. Just once she wanted to be the leader in this little…whatever they were. Halfdan had been in charge since day one, it drove her crazy and somehow she found herself loving it when he made the decisions.

“There is something about a hot shower, I am pretty sure it may even be better than any orgasm.” Halfdan mused tossing the dirty towel into the hamper on the way by.

“That must be some shower.” Muttered an irritated Marcy.

“Oh, it was.” Halfdan spoke over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs. His voice was low and sultry.

Damn it, Marcy wanted to punch him and crawl all over him at the same time. She settled for following him up the stairs.

“I assume you have heard the news by now?” Halfdan halted at the top, waiting for her to catch him.

“I have.” She confirmed. “Have you spoke to her?”

“No.” Halfdan’s answer was short, his tone telling all.

“Look, it isn’t any of my business, but maybe you need to call her? Talk to her a little, congratulate her on this?” Marcy trailed Halfdan in the same manner Squire would follow her, when he wanted her undivided attention.

“It doesn’t matter, she’s engaged. She is happy. She hasn’t been my wife in years, we are both free to do what we want with our lives.” Halfdan lead the way back to the kitchen. “She is my ex wife, it is her will to marry who she pleases.”

Halfdan gestured to the stools next to the smooth counter top, while Marcy got situated he went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. On the counter top beside March was a plate of fresh cookies, Halfdan had spent most of his day baking. A habit that took his mind away from his troubles.

Baking was complicated, but there were a strict set of rules to follow. If you read carefully and did what the recipe told you, then the results were stunning. Life and women weren’t like that.

Two glasses of milk set on the bar, Halfdan leaned against the counter, keeping the space between himself and Marcy.

“Cookie?” Halfdan offered the plate to Marcy. “I made them myself.”

“Is this your apology? Feeding me homemade cookies?”

“I can’t apologize, not because I don’t want to,” Halfdan huffed, stuffing the rest of a cookie into his mouth. He wanted to apologize, truly, anything he said would sound cheap and fabricated. He had hurt Marcy and the situation was unfairly put onto her. “I don’t know how to express how sorry I am.”

Picking at tiny pieces of the cookie, Marcy held his gaze. Leave it to Halfdan to be honest and admirable. Dropping his shoulders, Halfdan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should have explained to you, in some way, and not left you wondering. You can be mad, I would be.”

She had been and desperately she wanted to be. Holding a grudge against Halfdan wouldn’t make Marcy feel better, nor would it teach him anything. Despite what the tiny voice had tried to tell her.

“I should have called or came over. It wasn’t fair and I accept if you want to walk away. However,” Halfdan’s expression and words held pure sincerity, “I know that I was stupid. Marcy, you deserved better. This is a pathetic apology, but I am truly sorry.”

This was a man who had fought these battles before, Halfdan was making it impossible to continue her upset. Standing before her, a cookie in hand, he was growing difficult to stay mad at.

Having been in his shoes, Marcy’s heart went out to him, she knew first hand how this could weigh on a person. No doubt it was harder for a man who left his wife, still in love.

“I understand, I do. I was the one who ruined my own marriage, but it never seems fair when they move on.” Marcy’s voice was quiet and steady. “Harald said that you were taking it pretty hard. Harald also said that he thinks you need some time away.”

“Harald said,” Halfdan groaned, rubbing his hands against his face. His calm demeanor switched.“Harald said. Harald isn’t my damn caretaker. Nor is he the person in charge of my life.”

“He’s worried and he loves you. You’re a big part of life around here, I’m willing to bet he appreciates that.”

Halfdan grunted and nodded. He had no doubts that Harald appreciated what his little brother had done for him. For his kids.

“Is this about being told what to do, or something else?” Marcy leaned in, resting her elbows on the counter. “Harald seemed genuinely worried about you. In the same way you always seem worried about him.”

“He’s not exactly a good house keeper, someone needs to worry or this place would be burnt down by now.” Halfdan’s words hinted at a joke, his furrowed brow and dark eyes hinted at something else.

Marcy bit her bottom lip, trying to sort out her next words. Halfdan was obviously attached to his family, an admirable trait, but even the most loyal of men needed a break.

“Maybe time apart is what you need? Go off, do some traveling? Have a little fun, without worrying about Harald or the kids? It’s commendable what you’re doing for them, but they aren’t your sole responsibility. Halfdan, you still have your own life.”

Staring into the glass of milk, Halfdan wrinkled his nose in a sniffle; he had been thinking about doing some more traveling, there were still so many things he wanted to see and do. Places left to be explored, food to savor, and experiences to be found. Experiences that he didn’t want to embark on alone.

He’d booked his next trip the previous morning, unknowing to anyone else. The plan was to tell Harald a few hours before he left, kiss the kids and tell them that their uncle would bring them back something nice. As the tickets cleared on his credit card, Halfdan began to feel guilty.

How could he take off for three months? Surely Harald or one of the kids would need him. Who would take Ana to dance every Wednesday? Or pick Henrik up from school, on days that Harald was stuck at work?

More importantly, how did he convince Marcy to come along? To leave and run away? Running away, Kassia had always told him that he was good at that.

“If there was an Olympic sport for running from your problems, Halfdan would be gold every time.” She would repeatedly say.

“Thailand, three months, I leave in a week.” Halfdan spoke up. His voice ridding his mind of Kassia’s.

“That’s fantastic!” Marcy beamed, reaching over to grab his hand in excitement. “See! You need to get back out there, do what you love.”

“I’ve never traveled that far, alone, before.” Halfdan added with a frown. He’d always had Harald, Kassia, or Bjorn along for the adventure.

“You’re an experienced traveler, you’ll be fine.”

“Come with me.” Halfdan’s statement was abrupt. From the shock and hesitation on Marcy’s freckled features, she hadn’t been expecting that.


	6. Everything Must Come to an End

Thailand for three months was something to digest, despite their familiarity, they were still strangers in many ways. Perhaps Halfdan was willing to overlook that bit? Marcy on the other hand couldn’t help think of all the things that could send such a trip on a sour twist.

What kind of person packed up, called home and said they were leaving for foreign lands for three months? Certainly not somebody with a sane mind.

Halfdan had asked once and only once. He wasn’t in the mood to be following somebody around, waiting for their reply. Whatever answer Marcy gave him in the moment was the answer he was taking.

It was wild, unpredictable, and bold of him to think she’d want to accompany him on this trip. If he was destined to be solo for this adventure, there was always a refund clause on the ticket.

Koh Samui was beautiful, the third morning was lit with a gorgeous sunrise and a phenomenal breakfast. The soft sands on the beach were quickly becoming the best place to be at such a time. The Thailand experience was like nothing else, the people, the food, the adventure - it was intoxicating.

Halfdan couldn’t wait to throw a dart at a map and see where he would be off to after this. The next country, waiting, calling for him to come and immerse himself in their way of life for a little while. The next trip would be shorter, a few weeks, no more than a month. He yearned to be back home, living out of his brother’s basement, seeing his niece and nephew every day, it would be a welcomed break.

Stretching his arms over his head, he sighed happily, his eyes hidden from the morning glow behind a pair of aviators. His hair was a mess and his body tanned and warmed from the hours spent in the sun.

This was paradise, Halfdan had decided that in the spur of the moment on his second day. This place was like nothing else, a place like he had never been. Everything here was new, exciting, and fresh.

Perhaps one day he’d return, spend his time more wisely. See and do more than he had planned for this trip.

Marcy groaned and rubbed her eyes, the sun was bright and the window was wide open, the breeze although not unpleasant was cool against her skin. Laying in bed, she draped her arm over her eyes, allowing the darkness to linger a few more minutes.

The alarm had another thirty minutes before it roused her, if only she could have found sleep. Instead here she was, alone in bed, hating the idea of removing herself from such comfort. Outside life began to stir, the sound of the world around her waking up was anything but peaceful.

Across the room, Marcy could see the culprit to her foggy head. The empty bottle standing on the table, proud as a peacock, taunting her for her decisions the previous evening. It had been easy to misjudge and slip down such a slope, while the bottle had been her company.

Prying her legs out of the bed, she shivered when her feet hit the cool tile flooring. A cool spot would be a welcome relief come this afternoon. Her robe laid on the back of a chair, waiting for her approach. The soft silk on her bare skin felt like heaven, the way it hugged and caressed her. A fond reminder of the gentle hands that would hold and caress her in a similar manner.

“You left me.” Marcy was groggy.

“You didn’t seem like you wanted to be disturbed.” Halfdan smirked, lifting his water bottle in offering.

“I didn’t, but it would have been nice to see the sunrise.” Marcy accepted the gesture, draining the remaining water. “We don’t have many of these left.”

“No, but we can always come back.” Halfdan offered his solution. “Maybe in another few months? Or next year?”

Marcy scoffed and ran her hand through her hair, the long red locks had been freshly cropped a few days ago. Her new hair went with the new attitude. “I’m jobless and probably homeless, I can’t be thinking about that right now.”

“So we go back, work a few months, save up, and voila.” Halfdan waved his hands for theatrics. “I’m sure you will have no problem finding work. I happen to know of a very respected business owner, who could use a mind like yours.”

Arching her brow, Marcy glanced sideways at a smiling Halfdan. “Oh really? Well, I may have to talk to this business man. I don’t suppose the job has benefits?”

“I hear he had a strikingly handsome younger brother. One who is very well rounded and willing to provide whatever benefits you would like.”

“So I take that as a no?” She teased, nudging Halfdan with her elbow. Leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, Marcy smiled sweetly. “Does Harald know that you’re offering me a job?”

“No, but I doubt he’ll mind.” Halfdan’s smirk grew, “wait until he finds out that his consultant is live in.”

“No, no Halfdan. We’ve talked about this.” Marcy shook her head. She refused to live in Harald’s basement, if only for a few months. He’d already been kind enough to allow Squire to live there, while his owner took a mental lapse and ran away. They were adults and if Halfdan wanted this to continue, he had to agree to some sort of formal address. “I’m not. No.”

“Well, then I will and you can live with Leena.” Halfdan tried to find the easiest and cheapest solution.

“I’m not living with my aunt.” Marcy huffed. “And I am not fighting, not right now. We have time to sort this out. Can we just enjoy…” She threw her hand forward to dramatically make her point.

“We can.” Halfdan agreed, his arms finding her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. “We could enjoy it more, if you want to head back inside and go back to bed.”

It was far too early to argue. Clutching the water bottle, Marcy gulped, her head still pounding away. Sex was good for a headache, right?

“But the sunrise.” Marcy feigned protest.

“It’s over, the sun is up.” Halfdan rubbed her shoulders, his hands sliding inside of the robe he had bought her while on their travels. It was the softest material he had ever felt, a small fortune later, he convinced Marcy that she was in desperate need of such an item.

The robe slipped, exposing her shoulders and neck. A shiver ran through Marcy, giving way to the excitement that those rough hands could provide. Stepping inside, she paused to take one last look at the morning before she rejoined Halfdan between the sheets, where they would spend their time wisely until late afternoon.

“This place is amazing.”

“I’m glad you came with me.” Halfdan kissed her shoulder, his chin lingering.

“I’m still not sure that this was the best idea.”

“Maybe not, but it sure is fun.” Halfdan smiled broadly. “Even you can’t deny that.”

“You know, I have spent the last few years trying to decide who I am. I still have no idea, but I think I could get used to this version.” Marcy answered, gently tracing the lines of his jaw line.

Halfdan laughed, his eyes crinkling. He knew better than to think this would last. Once they got back home, Marcy was as good as gone, perhaps she’d stay on for another adventure or two. After that, Halfdan knew she would grow tired of this life. Most people did. He was okay with that.

Until they got to that bridge, he would continue to amuse her - and she him - with talk of the future and life together. They weren’t designed to be relationship people, once upon a time they had been those people, not now. In a couple of days they would move on, leave Thailand and the memories behind. On to the next adventure, each going their own ways.


End file.
